


Starshine

by IoccasionallyWriteStories



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, Gen, M/M, can be read as gen or ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IoccasionallyWriteStories/pseuds/IoccasionallyWriteStories
Summary: A Tumblr request: Jack & Crutchie with the prompt: "Can I touch you?"His legs are dangling over the edge of the penthouse as a few bars resting against his chest and forehead are the only things keeping him from toppling over it, finding a new sort of rest that he isn't sure he would detest right now.





	Starshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PawPunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawPunk/gifts).



His legs are dangling over the edge of the penthouse as a few bars resting against his chest and forehead are the only things keeping him from toppling over it, finding a new sort of rest that he isn't sure he would detest right now.

For some reason, he's scared to tear his gaze away from the streets below and to look up at the by now dark sky above him. Logically he knows that the night sky hasn't changed in the relatively short period of his absence. Should he look up, he'd either see heaps of stars, their twinkling a familiar albeit sorely missed greeting or he'd get greeted by an outstretched vastness, reaching further than his mind and eyes could comprehend. 

But the little 'maybe' in the back of his head withholds him from doing so, the irrational fear that maybe even the night sky has changed keeps his gaze trained on the cobblestones that make up the streets of New York.

From the distance he can hear some of his friends sing, overjoyed at a fight well won and the cheerful tune, combined with the out of tune singing from what he thinks might Race, makes Crutchie...

It makes his blood boil.

He knows that he's being unreasonable, knows that he should be filled with glee at both being freed and having won a fight. But the thing is, Crutchie hasn't won anything. In the heat of the battle, he had been pulled out of it and now that it's supposed to be over, Crutchie can't let go of it. The will to fight is still raging within him and he hates that everything is coming to a halt when he hasn't even started yet. He wonders if that what life's gonna be like for him. Cheering from the sidelines and getting plucked away from the real events, looking at history being made as nothing but a useless side piece. 

The metallic sound of the ladder alert him of someone coming up and Crutchie quickly wipes away the angry, frustrated tears. "Hey buddy", Jack softly says. "Are you alright?"

The softness, the caring tone, Crutchie can't take any of it. "Shut up", he growls, unable to keep any kind of hostility out of his voice. "Shut up!" He shouts again, clutches Jack's shirt, pulls him close and hands him a solid slap to the face.

Too late Crutchie realizes what he's done, but it still doesn't really register in his mind. Jack doesn't deserve this, but rage is boiling inside of him and Crutchie wants to fight, wants to touch something and leave a mark, wants stability, but his knows neither his mind nor body will let him rest.

"Crutchie." Jack reaches out with a steady hand, but Crutchie pushes it away. Right now, it's not what he wants and against all logic, Crutchie gives Jack a jab in the side. It's not hard enough to do damage, but enough for Jack to get the hint that he should stick his softness in another place. 

Hesitantly, Jack gives him what should be a push, but feels more like a light poke. There it is again, people underestimating him, moving around him too carefully, but not careful enough in the right ways. With the help of the element of surprise and his own bodyweight, Crutchie quickly works Jack Kelly to the ground.

Finally, Jack claps back for real, his fist meeting Crutchie's jaw rather directly. It hurts, but Crutchie ignores it and manages to get Jack into a headlock. The other boy is strong, but he's got nothing on Crutchie when it comes to upper body strength and they both know it. For a second their gazes meet and then Jack locks his jaw, giving a solid blow to Crutchie's ribs and he gasps out loud and lets his hold of Jack go, unable to keep it up.

It hurts, hurts so fucking much and Jack immediately takes notice of it. "Can I touch you?" he asks, voice wavering and Crutchie looks up at his friend. Somewhere in Jack's eyes he can see tears and the realisation that Jack really does not want to do this hits him like a brick in the face. Instead of answering, he collapses on top of the other boy and breaks down in tears.

How swell, here he is, fighting with someone who's beyond tired of battle. Hitting someone who's been hit enough already and reminding him of things he really does not want to remember. "Sorry", is the first thing he can bring out between sobs and Jack pulls him close. "No", he whispers, "None of that. You're allowed to be angry Crutchie. Rage, scream go ahead, it's alright."

No sounds except for his sobs makes it past Crutchie's lips as he buries his face in Jack's shoulder. "I'm sorry too", Jack confesses, voice laced with regret. "I should've gotten you out earlier, but my head did the thing where it sees everything except for a solution. I should've fought harder."

I wanted to, I should've, I could've... All useless words to express regret and hollow as their content may be, they still manage to find a way into both of their hearts and lodge themselves there. The words dig and twist deeper as the boys move, trying to find a place in everything, hurting because of the movement caused by going forward.

As his sobbing dies down, Crutchie dares himself to look up at the sky. Like he's predicted nothing has changed, the stars are still there. They're tiny flickers of hope, that keep shining even though each individual one won't make a difference and yet...Crutchie thinks he'd notice if one fell away. He thinks he'd be distressed, should that happen.

Maybe it's the same for him. Maybe, in some way, he's a little light of comfort for other people. It's a stupid comparison, but it does tip the edges of his lips upwards. 

He's still upset, but the white hot anger seems to have faded into tiredness. His injuries seem to catch up to him and Crutchie sighs deeply. For today, it has been enough he decides and lets himself sink into Jack's side. As fingers carefully thread through his hair and he slips into unconsciousness, he can hear Jack sing a quiet lullaby to the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm rivertellsstories on the tunglr :) thanks for reading


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